Easter made me kinda sad

Not sad in a Good Friday kind of somber, or in a "oh i'm longing for the sweet bye and bye" kind of sad. That would be weird. It's like a sad homesickness. I'm not sure why, either - Easter has never been a big family holiday or anything. I mean, we'd get together after church and have lunch and an egg hunt. But I'm not really tied to the holiday with any particular memory that I know of, even though I do have good memories (sorry, Jesus). Maybe it's because Easter happens at the change in seasons. It's in the spring - a nice but transitional season, at least in the South (maybe other places get a full 4 seasons, but down here there is summer and winter with spring and fall as month-long transitions between the two). I'm not good with transitions. Maybe it's because it is a special day with pressure to be special happy, which always makes me morose. I'm not good with being forced into something. Maybe it's because it is a special occasion and I want everyone I love to be in one place for special occasions and I'm sad because they aren't. Maybe it's the letdown from being with people I care about for a special occasion and then all going our separate ways afterward. Like I said, I'm not good with transitions.

But the day wasn't a total loss. I went to church with and had lunch with some good friends, and I got to see my uncle in the middle of the festivities when he dropped off my Easter basket from my aunt. I learned how to put someone in and get myself out of a choke hold (thank you, Adam). I also did the following:

1. Killed a wasp. This is a major accomplishment because wasps (and spiders and roaches) make me do two things: run away and shriek with terror. Well, scream bloody murder is more like it. I heard it between my blinds and the window as I was lying in bed. I stayed really still for a minute, praying it was just a fly. When it got more persistent, I opened the blinds and had a moment of cold panic before I ran out of the room. I returned with a bottle of spray bleach and a rolled up copy of the latest CBF Newsletter, and sprayed and swatted until the thing was dead. At least twice I considered screaming as loudly as I could, but no one was home so it wouldn't have helped.

Don't judge. It's clean now.

2. Cleaned my box fan. This sounds like a fun task except my box fan is 4 years old and has never been cleaned. That's four years of dust, dirt, hair, and who knows what else collecting in those tiny little grates. I took the front and back panels off, attempted to wipe one down with Clorox wipes, and realized it was going to take forever. What I needed was a driveway, a garage, and a hose with running water. I live in an apartment, though, which means no driveway, garage, or hose with running water. I did the next best thing...took them in the shower with me. I needed to rinse off after a walk, so I just threw them in there, too! It worked really well. They're nice and clean and being blow-dried by the actual fan part of the fan. Booyah.

3. Took a walk. That sounds like a lame-o thing to report, but after a week of lying flat with back problemos, a walk felt really good. And really slow. I think it took me 20 minutes to walk one mile. I probably should eat some more chocolate to keep my strength up.